


His Butler, Reclaimer

by BitterWhore



Series: Black Butler: Those Things Implied [4]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood, Blood Drinking, Bloodplay, Bondage, Collars, Creampie, Dom/sub, M/M, Shota, Situational Humiliation, Size Difference, Whipping, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-16 03:50:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2254809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BitterWhore/pseuds/BitterWhore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mourning has passed, at least enough for the Earl Phantomhive to return to some semblance of normalcy. Now, after returning from dealing with the Demon Hound, he finds himself desiring 'stress-relief' once more - albeit a much more intense kind of stress relief.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Butler, Reclaimer

Sebastian peers out the window for a moment, marveling at the night sky. It is good to be home, if for no other reason than he no longer has to be surrounded by so many of those awful canines. There is of course that demonic hound that he and the others now have the unfortunate responsibility of taking care of - but it is well trained, so it could be _much_ worse.

"I've been thinking, Sebastian, about things we've spoken about," Ciel says. The butler blinks and turns, looking to his young lord. The young master has set aside what he was previously working on, that being some form of paperwork.

"Have you, my master? What specific things?"

"Control, or lack there of. I am in control so much, Sebastian. I control you, I play the game… it's so stressful. I think I've come to understand myself better," Ciel tells him, lacing his fingers together and looking straight ahead. His cheeks are already reddening and he can't bring himself to look at his butler.

"Oh? And what is this understanding, my lord? How have you come to it?"

Ciel sighs heavily, turning his eyes down to his desk.

"When we were seeking the Demon Hound, Sebastian. I saw that disgraceful man whipping that strange maid. I don't know how precisely to express what I felt, but it was… odd. Concerning," the young master says, frowning. "She was under his control, not her own. She had nothing in that moment to worry about but pain, which she clearly didn't like."

The butler tilts his head, thinking. It's obvious what his master is implying, but it still requires a certain amount of thought before he is sure what to say.

"I see. And you, of course, do like pain, my lord. So, am I correct in saying that you wish to experience that kind of lack of control, with the pain, so you might continue controlling your stress?" he asks, eyes narrowed.

Ciel is silent for a long time, well over a few minutes. His butler, as is proper, waits in silence for the entire time, his hands clasped behind his back. The Earl Phantomhive's face is positively burning red. His bright blue eye, the only one visible of course, is nearly closed as if he is trying to shut out the world so he can say what he needs to say.

"I want even less control, Sebastian. I want the pain, and the submission, and I want it to be as much as possible for as long as possible. I want the pain to last after we are done. I want marks that have to heal," Ciel finally says, each word spilling past his lip at speed like he's trying to just get it over with as quickly as possible. "So… so we will need to buy a whip, and… whatever else we need. I trust that you know."

Now comes the smile. Sebastian knows exactly what he needs to do, exactly what to say.

"My lord, we already own a whip and several riding crops," Sebastian tells him softly.

"I'm not talking about things used for the horses, Sebastian."

The butler's smile grows. His eyes take on the reddish, glowing look that they always possess in times of particular amusement or anger.

"I am not talking about those things we possess for the horses. I have my own materials, my lord. I thought perhaps at some point they would become useful. This is not the way I expected, but I am prepared - naturally," the butler explains. "If you would like, we could retreat to the basement. I will fetch the things on the way, if you like."

"Will you… clean the wounds as well? Will the whip make wounds?" Ciel asks, looking to him.

"Yes, my lord, to both. Now, if you would like to get on your way, I can meet you there. The other will know to stay out of the basement. I am sure I can find tasks for them to do," Sebastian answers, proffering his hand. Ciel takes it and rises.

"I will meet you there, then."

Master and servant walk together to the door. Ciel drops his butler's hand as the tall, lean man opens the door and shows him out into the hallway. They part ways. Quickly, nervously, the Earl Phantomhive makes his way to the basement. Unsurprisingly, Sebastian is waiting for him. The butler, as always, looks like he has been waiting for this for the longest time. He appears to be prepared as well, with a table all set up and waiting with everything laid out on it.

The young master takes a moment to stare at that table after passing through the door. His butler smiles, watching Ciel's cheeks grow red extremely quickly. After Ciel manages to close his mouth, Sebastian crosses the distance between them and shuts the door, drops a bar to lock it.

"Give me an order, my lord. No matter how much control you wish to surrender, I still require an order from my master," Sebastian says softly.

"Take control then, Sebastian. Do to me what you will. Leave your marks on my skin," the young lord says, keeping his eyes turned towards the floor. "I was taken by Druitt. I was taken by force and pleasurable or not I… I want to belong to you again. Mark me! Take me back! I want to be your dog!"

Sebastian kneels, pressing his lips to his young lord's. The kiss is long and hard, desperate on Ciel's side and forceful on Sebastian's. Their tongues meet, gently at first, but that lasts about as long as it takes for the butler to be more forceful.

When the kiss breaks, Sebastian leans in to whisper in his ear.

"My lord, I am not overly fond of dogs. However, for you, I suspect I can make an exception. Now… strip your own clothes off, for once."

Ciel is left breathless, watching his butler move with his back pressed to the wall beside the door. As soon as his brain processes things properly, he begins to work at the buttons. The motions are actually a bit unfamiliar, but he gets the coat off, and then the shirt.

Sebastian just watches, that cruel smile on his face. Ciel lays his clothing on the open spot on the table, his shoes underneath it. The socks and their belts go next, and then finally, his undergarments. The butler is amused by how much more comfortable Ciel is getting with his nudity before the butler.

"Now come to me, my young lord."

Ciel approaches him, unsure. The butler's white gloved hands fall on his and the young master is pushed to his knees.

The belting happens so fast Ciel can't even see the butler move. Something wide and leather tightens around his ankles. Something else tightens around his wrists and they are pulled together in front of him. With that done, Ciel grabbed by those bound wrists and dragged roughly towards the wall. He finds himself then secured via another belt to a ring on the floor that he makes a mental note to ask about at some point since he has no idea why it might be there.

His view then is nothing but the wall.

As always, his butler's footfalls are near silent.

"Sebastian? What… what happens ne-"

He is interrupted by a piece of rough cloth that is secured around his head. It is an effective gag.

His Butler's warmth is against him then, those hot lips against his ear.

"We mustn't have you screaming too loud, my lord. Unless we are more alone, I cannot hear those delightful noises. I have however procured something for you… something you may like. It might be tight, but you'll just have to accept that," the demon whispers.

Ciel stiffens as another piece of leather touches his skin. This one is much more high quality - he can tell simply by how it feels. Cold metal touches the back of his neck, and he realizes as it tightens that it is a collar. The young lord's heart is pounding. He is ashamed by how absolutely aroused he is at the moment, and by the throbbing already occurring between his legs.

Of course, there is nothing to be done about it now. He has surrendered control, given it over to the demon who will eat his soul. It's thrilling beyond anything he has ever experienced.

"This will hurt, my lord."

Ciel cannot even tense up before the whip cracks and a line of fire is drawn across his back. The butler gives him time to struggle against the ring on the floor, trying to pull away - but the belt holds fast. The struggles do not last nearly as long as Sebastian expects them to, but his master enduring terrible things with strength beyond what he ought to possess has become normal.

The whip cracks again, drawing another line of fire. Welts rise quickly on the Earl Phantomhive's back, the skin reddened. The second strike of the whip brings fewer struggles than the first, though the young lord's entire body still tenses.

The third crack comes faster, bringing tension again, and then the forth hits before Ciel can even relax. His eyes are wide open, his teeth gritted on the cloth in his mouth. Between his legs, his small cock throbs and drips pre onto the cold, dirty ground. The collar is tight about his neck, and that plus the gag makes breathing more difficult.

The fifth crack comes, and then the sixth, and seventh. The pace is even, measured. For a time, this persists. Sebastian's cruel smile never wavers, his eyes never cease to glow.

When he is sure his master has become used to the agony, he adjusts his speed and the strength with which he whips. Angry red lines cover Ciel's back, and each now stronger strike of the whip makes him whimper and gasp, unable to scream.

Dots of blood begin to appear behind the whip as the butler speeds up once more. Tears are dripping down the young master's cheeks, dripping off of his jaw. Every noise from his mouth is a gasp that comes with muffled moan of pain and pleasure. His eyes are partially rolled back now. All there is in his world is pain and submission now. Everything is gone. All the pain, the stress, the terror, the disgust. Everything is just pain and his butler, and that is exactly what he needed.

He has no decisions to make, no orders to give, nothing to do but remain in place and take it. He wants to beg for it to be harder, but he doesn't need to.

Sebastian knows.

And so the whipping intensifies until several strikes draw blood in long lines. The hot red runs down the young master's back, dripping off of his ass. The crack of the whip comes so regularly it's almost as fast as Ciel's heartbeat. Many more bleeding lines are formed. The heat of his own blood becomes an all-consuming sensation, something that makes his eyes fall half closed and his brain go fuzzy with pleasure.

And then the whipping stops.

His eyes snap to focus, staring at the wall in front of him. A desperate, pleading whimper is muffled by the gag - but the butler's ears are much sharper than most others. He is at his young lord in a split second, kneeling.

His tongue runs up the line that bleeds the worst, the crimson smearing on his lips and chin. Over and over again, he licks the blood as if it is a drug - the drug. The only thing that matters in this moment. The sensation of his tongue on the wounds is agony, bringing soft whimpers from Ciel as he struggles for breath.

"You… are… mine," Sebastian growls, roughly removing the belt that ties his bound wrists to the ring on the floor. The young lord is dragged roughly across the floor and then lifted by his arms. The butler sweeps everything off of the table and forces Ciel against the cold metal surface.

In a flash, Sebastian's belt is undone, his pants drawn down. Legs hanging in the air helplessly, Ciel can do nothing but wait until black nailed hands fall on his hips. Heat presses to his blood dampened ass. Slickness is smeared around.

The cold metal of the table is pressed to the young lord's small cock, pinning it between the metal and his stomach.

Sebastian lets out another growl while positioning himself, and then he works his own throbbing arousal into his master. This time, there is no gentleness. While he moves slow enough to avoid damage, he ensures it hurts like hell as he slides inside and then he begins thrusting quickly without bothering to work up to it.

Each exhalation brings a half pant, half growl from the butler. Each thrust, a muffled sort of squeak from the Earl Phantomhive. The metal table is heavy enough to stay in place against the force of the rapid thrusts.

"You… will never… belong to anyone but me," Sebastian mutters through gritted teeth, reaching out to drag his black nails down his young lord's back. His hand is wet with blood when he reaches up, smearing the blood on the side of his face as he brushes his hair out of his eyes. "You are _my_ master. No one else. I will never surrender you! I will never allow you to be taken from me! _You are mine!_ "

The thrusts become frantic, vicious, full of rage and possessive need. Ciel doesn't even try to keep himself under control, he just lets his orgasm slam down on him. The young lord's cock throbs and spurts cum between his skin and the table. The force of the inward motions spreads it around on his stomach.

His internal muscles clench and release with every spurt of cum. This and the blood and the damage to his young master's back and the gasping, choking noises Ciel makes push Sebastian over the edge. He too allows his orgasm to come without resistance, pumping his cum deep into his lord's depths. Even then, the thrusts do not slow. He forces himself to keep going until there is nothing left in him to fill his master with. Only then does he slow.

Inch by inch he withdraws until his head pops free and cum mixed with small quantities of blood weeps out sluggishly.

Almost immediately, he works Ciel up until the boy's slender form is lying face down on the table. The ankle belt is released, and then those on his wrists, and then the collar and gag.

"Are you okay, my master?" the butler asks, rolling Ciel slowly onto his back. Every inch of his body trembles with exhaustion. His skin is coated with a sheen of sweat and in placed blood has ran down his sides to mix with the sticky cum on his stomach.

"… S-Sebastian…" the young lord murmurs, panting hard now that he can actually manage to draw breath at all.

"I am here, my lord," the butler murmurs, leaning down to kiss Ciel softly.

"… don't forget to clean… t-to clean me up… order," the young master manages before consciousness slips away.

Sebastian stares for a moment, and then checks his pulse. His young lord is breathing well, and appears for all intents and purposes to have simply passed out.

"As you wish, my lord," the butler says to no one, looking the boy over once more. "Oh my… we did make a mess this time. It will be one _hell_ of a trick getting this cleaned up with no one knowing…"


End file.
